


Kurt's Mouth

by Ellie226



Series: Life at the Hummel House [3]
Category: Glee
Genre: Discipline, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-14
Updated: 2012-10-14
Packaged: 2017-11-16 07:53:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/537204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellie226/pseuds/Ellie226
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt's always been a mouthy kid, and it's always gotten him in trouble.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kurt's Mouth

Kurt had known he was pushing it, but it wasn’t like Mr. Shue ever did anything. If he had thought that he’d get sent to Figgins, there was no way he would have mouthed off in glee.

Somehow, he thought that defense wouldn’t go over well with his father. Watching Burt through the window, he revised that opinion. Arguing that he thought Mr. Shue wouldn’t bother to punish him would probably make things much, much, much worse.

Burt’s expression when he left Figgins’ office did not make Kurt feel any more optimistic. Nor did his question.

“Did you leave your keys with Finn?”

Kurt shook his head no, eyes dropping to the ground. He really didn’t want to look his dad in the face right now.

“Give them to the secretary. She can send them to him so he can bring the car home.”

“I can-” Kurt tried to argue. He wasn’t quite sure what he was going to offer, to drop the keys off at Glee Club or to drive the car himself, but it didn’t matter anyway. Burt interrupted him.

“You can give your keys to the secretary like I just told you.”

Kurt gulped, handing the keys off quickly. His eyes burning with unshed tears, he mumbled his thanks at her promise to get them to Finn, and then he followed his father out to the truck.

Burt let them drive nearly all the way home before he finally said something to Kurt. 

“I’m disappointed Kurt.”

Chin wobbling, Kurt nodded. He stared out the window so he didn’t have to look at his dad.

“How many times have we discussed your mouth? Hmmm?”

Kurt was pretty sure that was a rhetorical question, but he shrugged anyway. Figured it was better that way.

“A hell of a lot, I know that much. And now I’m getting called in because you’re mouthing off to that Schuester guy? I thought you and Finn liked him.”

“We do,” Kurt managed to choke out. This was really really really bad. “We just...he always wants to sing songs from like the 70s, and everybody wants to sing Britney Spears. Everybody Dad, not just me.”

“So you felt like it was acceptable to be disrespectful to him? He’s still the adult, Kurt.”

Kurt didn’t feel like Mr. Schuester acted like much of an adult, but he managed to restrain himself from sharing that particular thought.

“I’ll apologize,” he muttered, praying to an entity he didn’t even really believe in that this would be enough.

No luck. “You will,” Burt said firmly, “You can spend your evening writing an apology letter to him. After we discuss your behavior at school today.”

Kurt bit his lip, staring out the window and blinking back tears. The rest of their ride home was silent. 

When they pulled into the driveway, Burt parked, then looked at Kurt. “I want you in the corner in the living room please. I’ll be in there in a minute.”

Nodding, Kurt hopped down from the truck, hurrying into the house. After making sure to hang up his bag at the hook by the door and line up his shoes underneath, he hurried to the corner. His corner. 

As he stood there, he vacillated between thinking about how not fair it was that he was still subject to such a humiliating punishment, especially when nobody spanked Finn, and dreading what was about to come.

Burt didn’t make Kurt wait for very long, although Kurt didn’t appreciate it much. Time out seemed like it took forever, until it was done. Then, he just wanted to be left in the corner.

“Come here please,” Burt’s voice was a lot gentler now.

Dragging his feet, Kurt slowly made his way to where Burt was sitting on the couch, looking so forlorn that his Dad almost wanted to give up the punishment. Almost.

“You need to go and get me the brush please,” he instructed quietly.

“Daaaadddd,” Kurt whined, twisting his hands together. “Pleeeeeease.”

“Don’t make me tell you again,” Burt was firmer now. He wasn’t going to put up with defiance from Kurt. Especially not when he was already in trouble and should be at least pretending to recognize his authority.

The tears that Kurt had been fighting back since he heard his dad being called finally spilled down his cheeks. “Daaaaaaadddddddd,” he whined more insistently.

Done with being nice, Burt grabbed Kurt’s hands firmly and gave them a shake. “Go and get the hairbrush now, or we’ll have another discussion before bed about minding me. Go on,” he turned Kurt toward the stairs, sending him on his way with a swat, “March.”

Kurt restrained himself from actually marching. He’d done that joke before. It hadn’t gone well. Instead, he dragged himself up the stairs and to his room. Picking the brush up from his vanity, he stared at it for a moment.

The brush had been his mother’s. Kurt remembered watching her with it, sitting on her lap and watching her brush her hair and then his in the mirror of her vanity. His vanity now. 

He’d felt it for the first time about six months before she had died. Shuddering, he turned and began to make his slow return to his father.

Once he was back in front of Burt, Kurt handed him the brush, sniffling. He couldn’t make the tears stop, but he was still enough in control that he wasn’t actually crying. Not that it mattered; once he was over his father’s knee, Kurt knew he would be crying hard enough to make up for it.

“Do you understand why I’m doing this?” Burt asked, pulling Kurt between his knees and unbuttoning the tight jeans. 

Kurt, focusing on a spot behind his father’s head, nodded. His face burned with embarrassment as Burt pulled down first his jeans and then his underwear. It was almost a relief to find himself pulled across Burt’s lap. At least then, he could bury his face in his arms, hiding his burning cheeks.

Of course, there was the typical awkwardness in the position. Kurt had argued a year ago that he was too tall to be put over Burt’s knee; it had gone over about as well as he should have anticipated, and he didn’t fight about it anymore. Not that he didn’t wish for a growth spurt every time he found himself here.

“Why Kurt?” Burt prompted, the same routine they always had.

“I mouthed off to Mr. Schue-ah-ster,” Kurt let out a little sound at the first swat of Burt’s hand. 

“And why is that unacceptable?” Burt smacked down again.

Kurt squirmed a bit, “It’s disrespectful.”

“That’s right,” Burt told him. “I know that we’ve discussed this before. You need to work on not letting your mouth get you in trouble.” 

With that, Burt began spanking in earnest. He started with his hand. He always started with his hand. In Kurt’s opinion, it didn’t make things that much better since his Dad’s hands felt gigantic, not to mention hard, when he was doing this.

“I know that we’ve talked about this before,” Burt said, adding emphasis in the form of hard slaps. “I know that I’ve had this exact same discussion with you many times Kurt Elizabeth Hummel. The question is, how many more will it be before you learn to watch your mouth.”

Kurt was whimpering and squirming, “I will Dad! I understand; it won’t happen again.”

Burt actually snorted at that, bringing his hand down a few more times before he responded. “I’ve heard that before. I don’t know if this’ll be the last spanking over you mouthing off Kurt, but I doubt it. I do intend for it to be something you remember for a good long time though.”

With that, Burt stopped spanking for a minute, letting his heavy hand rest on the curve of Kurt’s buttocks. After giving himself a small break, he picked up the brush, tapping the smooth wooden back against his target.

“Daaaaaaaaddddddddd,” Kurt whined again.

Burt quirked a smile at that. Sometimes, he thought that he wouldn’t answer if Kurt just said ‘Dad.’ He felt like it was always some drawn out whine. Possibly just because of how often he’d had to discipline him lately, but still.

“Kuuuuurrrrrt,” he replied, tapping slightly harder. “Stop using that tone with me please.”

Kurt squirmed unhappily. He knew that his dad hated whining, but he normally had a little more leeway if he was getting punished. The brush fucking-

That thought was interrupted by his Dad bringing the brush down. Hard. Right across the crease where his legs met his butt, and Kurt bucked at that. He hadn’t been expecting it.

“Settle down,” Burt told him, getting into a rhythm. “We’re a long way from done here kiddo, and I’m not going to wrestle with you.”

“I can’t help it,” Kurt wailed, struggling even harder. He threw a hand back, shrieking when Dad caught him across his open palm with the brush.

“Damnit Kurt!” Burt said irritably, putting the brush down to examine Kurt’s hand. At least his son had the sense to put it palm up rather than palm down, but it was still red. “You know better than to put your hand back.”

“Hurts,” Kurt gasped out, trying to jerk his hand away to look it over himself.

“It’s supposed to,” Burt knew he sounded unnecessarily gruff; he felt more than a little guilty. Kurt knew better, but Burt knew it was his responsibility to watch out for hands. Mid-spanking, Kurt couldn’t very well be expected to always keep his hands away, and Burt had been doing this long enough that he should have thought.

“Stop tugging,” he admonished, bringing the hand up to the small of Kurt’s back and pinning it. “We’re not nearly done here.”

“Doooonnnn’t,” Kurt wailed, trying to pull his hand away and crying out when he felt the brush start up its horrifying rhythm again. “Oooooowwwwww. Daaaaaddddd. It really huuuuuurrrts.”

“Good. I hope that it hurts. I hope it hurts enough that you’ll remember this the next time you decide you know better than somebody. You can’t just say whatever you want to everybody Kurt. I understand that you’re opinionated, but you need to show some sense.”

As Burt lectured, he wondered when he had turned into his father, lecturing about spankings that were supposed to hurt. Forcing that thought from his mind, he continued.

Kurt was still trying to pull away or wriggle his body away, crying loudly now. “Stooooooopppppp Dadddddddddd. I knoooooow. I’m sorrrrryyyyyyy.”

“I’m glad to hear it. I think you’ll be feeling a bit sorrier before we’re done here though.” 

With those words, Burt angled the boy further forward, exposing the long, pale, thighs to the brush. If he’d thought that Kurt was struggling before, he’d been mistaken, and Burt finally stopped spanking, simply holding Kurt still.

“We’re not done yet kiddo. You need to settle down for me,” his voice was firm, matter of fact, and he tried to ignore the way Kurt’s heart-rending sobs made him feel.

“Pleeeeeeeease Dadddddyyyyyy.”

It was always daddy at this point, and Burt wanted to stop. He took a long look at the reddened skin in front of him, and he almost did.

Then, steeling himself, he picked up the brush again and finished what he had started.

“You’re going to apologize to Mr. Schuester.”

“Yessssss. I promissseee.”

“And I’m not going to get called into the school again for any more misbehavior, is that right?”

“Yes siirrrrrr.”

“I’m not kidding Kurt. I get one more call from the school this semester, and I’m going to consider whether the brush is still cutting it. If I’d made my dad take half a day off work to deal with this, he would have used his belt.”

Kurt stiffened at that, finally collapsing over Burt’s knee. It wasn’t the first time he’d heard that threat, but it was as effective as ever. “No belt Daddy. Nooooo.”

“Then you behave yourself. This better be the last call.” 

Burt stopped spanking at that, surveying the formerly pale expanse of skin. He wanted Kurt to quit misbehaving; he still wanted him to be Kurt. Letting go of the trapped hand, Burt rubbed Kurt’s back, waiting for him to stop crying.

When the tears had died down, Burt helped Kurt stand, dragging tight jeans over the red skin so that Kurt was decent again. Giving him a hug and wiping tears away with work roughened thumbs, he nodded once.

“Alright. Corner please.”

“Daaadddd,” Kurt whined, face going bright red at the idea of time out at his age. Not that he hadn’t been sent to the corner immediately before the spanking, but that had so not been the time to point out that he was too old for it.

Apparently now wasn’t the time either. Burt raised an eyebrow. “Seriously? Now? You think now is the time to argue?”

Kurt fidgeted a little, shaking his head even as he tried one last argument. “What if Finn gets home?”

It was bad enough to still be spanked at 16 years old. Kurt didn’t need Finn to see him sent to time out like a baby. Especially since it seemed like the worst thing that ever happened to Finn was his mother lecturing him.

“Better hurry and get it over with so it’s done before he gets here.” 

Burt’s face was impassive; Kurt had to learn. And frankly, although he didn’t particularly want Kurt to be embarrassed, Burt thought that Finn needed to see what kind of punishments to expect. He might not be the adult being called to school when Finn misbehaved, but he’d had Carole talk about it often enough to know that the boy needed more structure.

With a barely concealed pout, Kurt turned and hurried to the corner, keeping his hands at his sides and standing up straight. No reason to have his Dad keep him there any longer than necessary.

After what felt like the longest sixteen minutes of his life, Kurt was called back to the couch where Burt was flipping through the newspaper. 

Taking his son’s hands between his, he began, “Why did you get punished today?”

“Mouthing off to Mr. Schuester,” came the subdued reply.

Burt nodded, “And why is that a problem?”

Kurt sighed heavily at that, “Because he’s the adult. Even if he doesn’t act like it half the time.” He couldn’t help it; it was true.

“That’s right,” Burt told him, ignoring the second half of the answer. “He’s the adult Kurt. You don’t have to agree with him or like him. But you will treat him with respect. Is that understood?”

Kurt thought that was a ridiculous question. Any doubts he had about how his father felt about disrespect had been pretty well cleared up by that damn brush. “Yes sir.”

“Alright kiddo. Go get your backpack; I want you sitting at the kitchen counter, writing that apology letter and working on your homework.”

Burt watched Kurt wander off to do what he was told. Folding up the newspaper, he went into the kitchen to begin putting together dinner. He figured that being under his watchful eye would be a pretty good reminder to Kurt about how exactly he felt about what had happened that day.

And if Finn happened to come home and see Kurt squirming, that would be okay too.


End file.
